You can read the text of Mother’s Dayhere. You can also watch this video with auto-captions; please switch them on in the settings menu in YouTube.
This poem was originally published in 2018 after I experienced a miscarriage. This Sunday it is Mother’s Day in Australia. Every year I have two poems I post in order to draw awareness to the concepts surrounding motherhood and gender roles and the valorised, socially sanctioned, often unquestioned, myth of the ever-nurturing mother. Miscarriage is a devastating event. Being unable to mother when one wants to is also devastating. Being considered less-than by society for being unable to mother or for choosing not to mother, is blatantly wrong. Mother’s Day is about my miscarriage and about the lack of respect that women who do not mother are subjected to in patriarchal society. In the patriarchy, women are generally only valued in relation to others and what they can do for others, rather than for their own abilities and merits as autonomous individuals. My poem aims to address some of these themes and provides food for thought on a day when so many women feel lonely, less-than, or defective.
This poem is a response to my great uncle Harry’s poem The train is winding slowly. It is also a meditation on intergenerational trauma and the layers that grief, love and loss form in the mind and body. My poem is dedicated to my great uncle, my grandmother (his sister) and my father. They were all very closely intertwined. You can read my poem here. You can also turn on auto-captions in the settings menu in YouTube.
This poem was written by my great uncle Harry, who was killed in World War II at age 23. He wrote this poem for his wife Beryl, while he was away at war. You can read the text of the poem here. You can also watch this video with auto-captions; please switch them on in the settings menu in YouTube.